


Delivering A Message

by Geenee27



Category: Miss Fisher and the Crypt of Tears (2020), Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Crypt of Tears Alternate Ending, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:34:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24163693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geenee27/pseuds/Geenee27
Summary: Miss Fisher and the Crypt of Tears is wonderful but so full of negative space and potential narrative, you almost think they did it on purpose.That ending for example! So. Much. Potential. (Arrrrggghhh)Surely there was another way to deliver the message for Phryne!This little scene immediately came to me, I hope you like it.Thank you so much to my beta extraordinaire @scruggzi  😘
Relationships: Phryne Fisher/Jack Robinson
Comments: 13
Kudos: 93





	Delivering A Message

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Scruggzi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scruggzi/gifts).



Phryne slipped the braces slowly over his shoulders, letting them fall beside his slim hips. She heard his breathing catch, as she held hers, and could feel the heat of his sun kissed skin radiate through his linen shirt. Her usually buttoned up Inspector had casually left the first three buttons of his desert shirt undone and his throat and chest were bared in a way that pleased her greatly. She teased the next button undone, and then the next, until there were no more and she had reached the waistband of his trousers. He leaned in and their lips met; his kisses were soft and searching, the need and tension building slowly. Pulling back slightly, she slowly opened her eyes, taking in the deep flush that had spread across his cheeks, his jaw and trailed down the sides of his neck. The tendons there were stretched taught.

They were almost breast to breast as she gently lifted the tails of his shirt free, her eyes never leaving his. His were glazed, shimmering, full of wonder and joy. Perhaps he could not quite believe that they were here, finally here, and he was trying very hard to allow himself to feel giddy at the realization?

Finished with freeing his shirt from his trousers, she slid her hands beneath it and onto his sides, and for the first time knew what it was like to actually explore Jack Robinson - free of the layers - and it was indescribable. Skin so smooth and firm and warm. Incredibly warm. He shivered and she realized her hands were shacking slightly too. 

Staring intensely, she slid her palms up and over his muscled abdomen to spread them across his pectorals. She then continued to brush them up and over his broad shoulders and pushed the shirt away so that is dropped quietly to the rug below. Phryne then found herself making a gesture so intimate she was surprised herself. She wound her arms around him and held him, leaning her ear to the side of his chest over his heart, and felt the skin against her cheek. She closed her eyes and sighed deeply. Around her drifted the scent of soap, the heated, dry air of the dessert, sandalwood aftershave and Jack. 

She listened to the steady pounding of his heart. The heart he had given her, and blinked away the tears forming in the corners of her eyes. When she stood back to look at him again, the adoration reflected in his steady gaze overwhelmed her. He grinned slightly and lifting his hands to each side of her face, bent down to kiss her again.

Scenes briefly flashed before her eyes: a first nightcap, a handhold across a kitchen table, fish and chips beneath a pier, a motorcycle chase, a tennis match, an airfield.

Could she fall in love with her best friend? Of course, she could. She already had.

He claimed he would never ask her to change and he had kept his word. But she had anyways.

******************************************* 

The early desert morning was cool and calm. Not even the stirring of a wind-blown palm frond, or the grumble of a restless camel could disturb this peace. Phryne lay luxuriously wrapped in smooth sheets and thick blankets and slowly became aware of the light of the rising sun. It gradually was being absorbed by the canvas side of the tent. Black morphed into deep violet, then rusts and pinks and finally glorious gold. She uncurled her legs a little, turned over and stretched her arms above her, relishing in the ache of her tired muscles, and grinned. There certainly hadn't been a lot of sleep last night. Her last recollection was laying under a black velvety night sky, staring with awe at a dome so full of white pin pricks and streaking flashes of light, it seemed almost midday. Battling slumber as she gazed up, she vaguely remembered being lifted up and carried, then gently placed beneath the covers of her bed before drifting off again. Her hand curled into his.

The camels suddenly moaned, then brayed in protest and soon after she became aware of what had disturbed them. Another sound was emerging, one that got steadily louder until she recognized the steady thump of someone running on sand. It grew closer until it stopped just outside the curtain that hung over the tent entrance-way, accompanied by heavy breathing that eventually slowed and calmed. A hesitant heavily accented voice called out.

“Miss Fisher?”

She peeked her head out of the cocoon of covers, then sat up on her elbows and shook her hair free from her face.

“Miss Fisher?”

“Yes” she answered, her voice a little rough this early in the morning.

“I have message.”

“Just a minute,” Phryne struggled to a sitting position, swung her feet to the floor and realized some attire was probably appropriate. She stood and looked around quickly for something and discovered her black and mint green silk nightgown, carelessly peeking out from under the bed, just next to her bare ruby painted toes. Where was her robe? She seized upon a shirt, carelessly tossed the night before, crumpled at the foot of the bed. She grabbed it up, pulled her arms though and wrapped it around her tightly. Luckily it hung well past her knees.

She padded to the doorway, drew it slightly aside and popped her head out. A youngish man, in traditional robe and head cover bowed, presented her with an envelope and quickly retreated before further ado.

“shukraan jazilaan lak,” she called after the disappearing form.

Phryne returned to the bedside, slowly opening the missive, and extracted one sheaf of note paper. She scanned it quickly and sat heavily back down on the bed with a thump.

“Oh no,” she cried aloud.

Her bed-mate shot up from somewhere under the covers, out of a dead sleep, cursing softly beneath a tousled head of curly light chestnut hair. He swept it out of his face and glared at her through half closed blurry dark blue eyes.

“Miss Fisher,” it hissed, “is it too much to ask for a few moments of peace around you !!!”

“It's from my mother-in-law!” she held the note up, staring off at some point on the wall in front of her.

Jack rubbed his face, making a scoffing noise as he did.

“The Maharajah of Alwar has been murdered!”

Jack reached over her shoulder, took the note from her hand and unceremoniously flung it into the far corner of the tent.

“We're supposed to be heading home!”

“A little detour?” her voice rising a little.

Jack rolled his eyes.

“We need to find out who did this and give him and his family justice!” 

“Weeeee....”, he drew out.

Phryne turned around and looked at him meaningfully.

“I'm asking for your help.”

He gave her that LOOK.

Phryne smirked, that LOOK was always a prelude.

She crawled over and pushed him back onto the mattress and kissed his cheeks one by one, then his forehead, then honed in on his lips. She kissed him passionately as he pretended to struggle.

“No, no, no and no!”, he finally gasped out.

“But Ja...ck,” she singsonged. She raised his shirt above her head and flung it behind her.

“Is that my shirt?” he protested weakly. She smothered the words with her lips and kissed him soundly for several minutes. Before he knew it, the kisses were slowly making their way down his torso and he groaned.

The camels outside the tent laid their heads together again and went back to sleep.


End file.
